


Rediscovering the Familiar

by rebeccaann08 (halesmoon)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: High School, M/M, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halesmoon/pseuds/rebeccaann08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur’s new at school, and he’s a jock, so he probably shouldn’t be seen hanging around with nerds like Merlin. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rediscovering the Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot thank my wonderful betas enough. Without mishaphappens, myashke, and sheswatching, this would have been a mess. I owe them all tons and tons of porn for the work they put into this fic.

Arthur followed his English teacher, Mr. Muirden, into his office, sitting down in the only chair in front of his teacher’s desk. He slouched as far down as he could in the hard, wooden chair and crinkled his nose at the musty air. Absently, he wondered if Muirden ever left his office to, you know, have a life. Or if he even opened the window once in a while. Arthur toed a scuff of something or other on the floor while he waited for Muirden to finish shifting through the papers on his desk.

Muirden cleared his throat after a few minutes, and Arthur looked up. “Normally,” Mr. Muirden began, “athletes are required to attend study hall for a set number of hours each week, those hours being determined by the student’s cumulative GPA.”

Arthur nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and instead let his head fall forward to rest against his chest, his right hand picking absently at a chip in the arm of his chair. He had been told this when he had transferred. The whole reason they were having this discussion was because Arthur had asked how many study hall hours he was required to put in and when he should begin. He didn’t really think he needed the backstory. He just didn’t want to get kicked off the football team because his teacher hadn’t been on top of things.

“Well, going over your records, we notice you have an outstanding grade record. Never anything below an A, right Mr. Pendragon?”

Arthur shrugged. “Yeah. My dad’s kind of a stickler for the grades.”

“Yes, well, parents want what’s best. In the meantime, considering your grades are much higher than that of the average athlete, and of the average student in general, and adding in that you’ve won a couple awards for an essay you wrote, we had something different in mind for you.”

Crap. Was he going to get _extra_ work because he was actually decent at his studies?

“Okay, then,” Arthur said warily. “What do you want me to do?”

“We’d like you to work in our school’s writing center. You’d be required to work there for six hours a week. When a student brings you an essay, you would read it and critique it, pointing out where you think it could be improved. Are you familiar with the writing center concept?”

Arthur’s stomach dropped. He would’ve rather just put in a few hours at the study hall. At least then, he’d still be doing work he would’ve had to do anyway.

“Er, yes. A bit. We had one at my old school and I went to it a couple times. Never worked there, though,” he said. Maybe if he didn’t have experience, Muirden would change his mind.

“You’ll be supervised for the first week, but I don’t foresee any problems.” There went that theory. “You’re a fantastic writer, judging from your writing samples, and I think you’ll find this experience invaluable in the future. Any questions?” Mr. Muirden asked.

How can I get out of this?

“Er…when do I start?”

***

Arthur was almost through his first day at the writing center, and he was beginning to wonder if this had really been such a good idea. He’d been assigned a room, for privacy, but he didn’t know if anything this small could classify as a room. He thought the term “cell” was more appropriate. There was barely enough space for the table he sat at. On top of that, there were no windows, so the air was stuffy and uncomfortably hot, and the walls were a plain white, leaving nothing for his eyes to settle on. It was, all in all, very boring.

And the students at this school, he quickly realized, were idiots.

He had just finished tearing into a paper by some freshman who didn’t know the first thing about Poe and his poetry (seriously, who the fuck would ever think “Annabel Lee” was about the American frontier?) and the boy had left almost in tears when his final appointment of the day showed up.

Arthur had honestly been looking forward to meeting this particular student because his name was Merlin and honestly, how many times did a person really get to meet a legitimate Merlin in their lifetime? Not many. And with his own name being Arthur, he was certain it would make an excellent story someday.

Arthur looked up when Merlin entered. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Someone…magical? Whatever it was, it wasn’t this. This Merlin was a bit taller than himself and gangly – _very_ gangly – with dark hair and an unfortunate pair of big ears. The clothes he wore were loose on his thin frame, which did him a disservice by making his lanky frame look even more awkward.

Normally, this would be the type of guy Arthur would ignore when in his presence and tease mercilessly behind his back. But something about him drew Arthur back for a second glance and yes, his ears were big, but they offset his cheekbones, which were _extraordinary_. And perhaps, Arthur thought, he wasn’t so much gangly as slender - with bad fashion sense. As Merlin walked forward, he could see thin legs pressing through the fabric of his jeans, and Arthur realized his legs were quite long. As were his fingers, which were currently clutching a bundle of papers. His fingers were elegant, smooth and white and tapered at the tips in a slightly feminine way, but the nails were blunted just enough, and a glance up at his strong wrist, told any observer that these hands definitely belonged to a male. Arthur distantly wondered if his hands were as soft to touch as they looked.

As Arthur’s gaze traveled up his body, it rested a moment longer than necessary on Merlin’s neck. It was long (was _everything_ on his body long?) and Arthur licked his lips when Merlin swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

Merlin shifted nervously under Arthur’s gaze before hesitantly moving closer to the table he was sitting at. “Hello,” he said. “Are you Arthur?”

His voice snapped Arthur out of his thoughts, and he realized he had just been caught staring. Clearing his throat, he stood up and held out his hand. “You’re Merlin,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Er…yeah,” Merlin said, grasping Arthur’s hand. Arthur took the moment to lightly swipe the pad of his thumb over the back of Merlin’s knuckles. “How did you…?”

Arthur let go of Merlin’s hand and gestured toward a sheet in the middle of the table. “Sign-up sheet.”

“Ah,” Merlin said, letting his hand fall to his side. He glanced curiously at Arthur, and for the first time, Arthur met his eyes. The intensity in them was both exhilarating and a bit frightening, but also…familiar? He studied those eyes for a long moment. It was Merlin who broke the stare, dropping his gaze to the floor, his face flushing.

“Right then,” Arthur said, gesturing for Merlin to join him at the table. “What have you got for me?”

They sat down in adjacent chairs and Merlin handed the papers over, licking his lips. Arthur suspected it was a nervous habit of his, and he most certainly did _not_ stare as Merlin’s tongue flicked out, leaving his lips wet and glistening. Really, he didn’t.

“I want to be an author once I graduate, and this is a book I’ve been working on,” Merlin said. His eyes flickered back and forth between the pages and Arthur’s face. Arthur tore his eyes from Merlin. He could gawk later, he told himself. Right now, his spot on the football team was on the line.

One glance at the first page of the book told Arthur all he needed to know about its contents.

“You’re writing a book about Merlin? Er, you don’t think that might be a bit self-serving?”

Merlin laughed and Arthur discovered he really liked Merlin’s laugh. It wasn’t a musical laugh by any stretch of the imagination. It was deep and a bit dorky, with slight snort on each inhale. It fit him, though. He radiated awkwardness, and it was only right he would have an awkward laugh as well.

“It’s actually about the Arthurian legend as a whole, just told from Merlin’s point of view. I’ve always enjoyed the legend. I got interested in it because of my name and it just kind of became an obsession. I’ve read everything I could about it.”

“But…hasn’t it been done to death already? I mean, what else can you say about it?”

“Lots of things, maybe. I dunno. But in everything I’ve read, it just seems like none of the stories got it right. When I read Malory or Bradley or Stewart or White, I just think ‘No, that’s not how it is.’ So I thought I’d write my own. And it just started as a small project. For fun, you know? But it’s gotten really big. Like, multiple books big,” said Merlin, pausing and holding his hands out as far as he could, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the picture he presented. Merlin face went red and he lowered his hands, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders, before continuing. “Only now I’m stuck and I can’t think of where to go. My creative writing teacher, Gaius, suggested I come to the writing center and have you read it and maybe brainstorm ideas with me.”

Arthur wondered what kind of high school student…sophomore, he noted, looking at the heading on the paper, what kind of sophomore thought he could change something as big as the Arthurian legend.

But Arthur had agreed to do this, and he didn’t really have any objections to actually working with Merlin, so he took the manuscript.

“This is actually the second book. The first one was all about Merlin’s life growing up, but I’m fairly confident with it. It needs some work, but it’s mostly finished.”

Arthur stared at him, silent. After a moment, he said, “You’ve already written a book?”

Merlin nodded and grinned crookedly. “Yeah!”

“Okay then,” Arthur said, hesitantly, “tell me what happens in this book.”

“It starts off following Merlin’s life,” Merlin began, leaning forward and waving his arms as he spoke. Arthur bit his lip and tried not to grin. “He’s a peasant, and he comes to Camelot to learn how to control his magic. Only magic is banned in Camelot. Those caught practicing are executed immediately.”

Arthur blinked. “Wait. Why would King Arthur ban magic?” His knowledge in Arthurian legend wasn’t extensive by any means, but he was sure there was always magic involved somewhere.

“Arthur’s still a prince. I always imagined Merlin to actually be a couple years younger than Arthur. I mean, I know he’s a mentor for the future king, but I just think his relationship with Arthur was kind of distorted. He was raised with a completely different way of looking at things, and he gradually helps Arthur overcome…” Merlin gestured with his hands, trying to come up with a word. “I don’t know, a sort of…Arthur’s not very in tune with his emotions. He’s a prince and he’s spoiled. Merlin helps him get past that when he becomes his servant.”

“Merlin is a servant?”

“He’s Arthur’s manservant, actually. Just…read the first couple chapters please. It’s all explained in there.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. The premise of the entire thing was a bit far-fetched. It varied too much from what he knew of the legend and he worried that, if Merlin was serious about being an author, he might be in for a bit a disappointment. Regardless, Arthur had a job to do. He picked up the papers and leaned back in his chair, slouching down and propping one foot on the chair across from him and began to read. Merlin also leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped tightly together, his index fingers tapping an irregular rhythm against each other. Merlin’s eyes were trained on Arthur’s face, and Arthur wondered whether Merlin found him attractive or whether he was just watching his expression, judging his reaction.

The first chapter was the initial meeting between Merlin and Prince Arthur. With the story being told from Merlin’s point of view, Arthur thought the prince was portrayed much too black and white. No one was going to believe this bully would become the Once and Future King of all of Albion. When Arthur and Merlin met in the market for the second time, he put the paper down and told Merlin so.

“But he’s being a prat!” Merlin protested.

“Yeah, and I get that, but everyone acts how they do for a reason. You’re making him a bully – and I assume one of Merlin’s goals will be to change Arthur into someone worthy of kingship – but right now there’s not even a hint of why he’s suddenly attacking Merlin with weapons in the village. I mean, Merlin is a commoner and Arthur’s going after him with a mace. No one is going to want to read about a character like that. Even Voldemort had at least _some_ reasons for doing what he did.”

“Merlin spoke up against him and he didn’t like it,” Merlin explained.

“And you’re speaking up against me, but I’m not attacking you. Why does your Arthur attack Merlin?”

Merlin chewed on his bottom lip as he took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Well,” he began slowly, reasoning through his character’s actions as he spoke, “it’s his nature. He’s been trained to kill since birth so it’s just instinctual for him to act out physically against something he perceives as a threat. In this case, Merlin is threatening his pride by standing up to him in front of the entire marketplace. He doesn’t want the people of his kingdom to think he’s weak.”

“Then put that in there. Have Arthur say or do something that references that. Otherwise, how are your readers ever going to identify with the prince? I mean, I’m assuming he’s going to be a main character and you want him to be a protagonist. Right? He’s not the bad guy, is he?”

Merlin shook his head and moved closer to Arthur so he could read from the manuscript. Arthur shifted uncomfortably when their thighs brushed together under the table.

Clearing his throat, Arthur said, “Then just do something to make it easier for your readers to believe he’s acting out of more than just malice.”

Merlin leaned over to scribble a note in the margins, his dark hair brushing lightly against Arthur’s cheek. With Merlin so close, Arthur could smell the shampoo he used, and wasn’t it just appropriate that he smelled like apples and wildflowers and all things free and natural? Arthur had to resist lowering his head to feel more of the soft curls.

When Merlin was done, he straightened and leaned back, the tips of his ears as red as his cheekbones. He absently picked at a stray thread on his jeans while Arthur read the note Merlin had messily scribbled. _Arthur’s POV, Arthur’s reasoning, Why is he doing this? He was raised to be a warrior._

Nodding in satisfaction, feeling content in the knowledge that Merlin had not only listened to him, but had found his advice useful, Arthur continued to read the chapter.

***

They continued to work on the story, hashing out vague details (“Wait, you spelled Morgan le Fey’s name wrong” “No, I changed it to Morgana.” “Weird. That’s my sister’s name.”) and plot holes (“Why didn’t Merlin fall asleep?” “He has magic. It protected him.” “Doesn’t Morgana have magic too?” “Not right now, no.”). Arthur didn’t realize their time was up until they’d gone over by thirty minutes.

Gradually, as they had worked, they had edged closer and closer until they were sitting side by side, each of them perched on the very edge of their seat, the lengths of their bodies pressed together. Arthur’s left side felt like it was on fire, and his right felt icy in comparison. Every time Merlin leaned over to scribble in the margins, his dark hair tickled Arthur’s neck. As Arthur read, he traced the words he was reading with a finger and if Merlin had a question to ask him, he would gently cover Arthur’s hand with his own to still the movement. After an hour, Arthur didn’t think he could control himself, and he had pushed the papers so they were closer to Merlin. He’d read them all by now, anyway, though he wasn’t too confident in his ability to recall the knowledge of what he had read. Being in Merlin’s presence had made his mind go slightly fuzzy.

They had worked through most of the second chapter, when Prince Arthur believed Merlin over a cheating knight name Valiant and had stood up in his father’s court, accusing the knight of using a magic shield in the tournament. Between the two of them, they had decided that the entire story needed more of Arthur’s feelings and thoughts. It was all told from Merlin’s point of view, which Arthur understood, but Arthur was being portrayed too flat, as if Merlin – neither the writer nor the character – could get inside Arthur’s head and figure out what he was thinking.

“When do you work next?” Merlin asked as he put away his papers.

“Not until Monday.” It was Thursday. Arthur was torn. Four days was a long time to go without being able to observe Merlin as he nervously licked his lips and scribbled messy notes with his long fingers and extended that slender neck to peer over Arthur’s shoulders, and… Arthur mentally slapped himself. He could handle four days without being around another student he barely knew. But Monday did seem awfully far away…

Damn it, when had it gotten this bad? He’d never felt like this over someone he had just met. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d ever felt this way about _anybody._

“Oh,” Merlin said. He frowned. “That’s a long time. I’ll schedule an appointment, though. This really helped.”

Arthur watched Merlin stand and hoist his backpack onto a slim shoulder.

“We could get together this weekend,” he blurted out, and immediately he wanted to kick himself. But then Merlin looked at him, lips quirking into a crooked smile that made Arthur’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Yeah, okay,” Merlin said. “When?”

Arthur thought for a moment. “Saturday, noon. I’ll buy you lunch or something and we can work while we eat.” Merlin looked like he was going to protest. “It’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “It’s an interesting story and I’d like to keep reading it. Plus, I’m new here. It’s not like I have anyone to hang out with on the weekends.”

Merlin eyed him skeptically. “You’re on the football team. I’m sure there are plenty of people who wouldn’t mind hanging out with you on the weekend.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell my coach, but as much as I love football, I don’t see it being a career choice. Besides, I like the story and I think working on a project like this would be good experience.” That was a blatant lie. He would much rather play football. His father was the one who insisted he spend his time on his studies with football being a reward for good grades. Well, if nothing happened from his time spent with Merlin, at least his father would be proud of him. “So what do you say? Meet me at The Pub?”

“I’d like that,” he said, shyly. Then he took a deep breath, and for a moment Arthur thought Merlin was steeling himself to lean over and kiss him, but Merlin only shook his head and exhaled loudly. “See you, then,” he said shakily. He smiled at Arthur, and his smile was warm and inviting, if a bit hesitant, and Arthur suddenly wondered what Merlin would do if Arthur kissed _him_ , but Merlin had already turned and left before he had a chance to do anything.

Arthur felt cold in Merlin’s absence, and he stared at the closed door for a long time. He scolded himself for feeling so disappointed. Did he really expect a kiss after helping the kid with his homework? He didn’t even know if Merlin was gay.

Priorities, he told himself.

He sighed, putting his own notebook and pen into his backpack and was just about to clock out when Leon walked in the door wearing a school jacket emblazoned with their school mascot, a griffon. He plopped down in one of the desks and grinned lazily at him.

“Guess you got stuck working with Emrys, huh?” Leon said.

Arthur frowned. “Yeah, what of it?”

Leon shrugged, using his feet to push his chair back and forth on the back legs. “It’s just, he’s Merlin Emrys.” At Arthur’s uncomprehending stare, he said, “He’s _weird._ ”

“Right,” Arthur said slowly. He finished packing his bag and began clearing off his worktable.

“Seriously. I hear he’s really smart, but he only barely manages to pass all his classes. And he hangs around with a bunch of other weird people. Like Mordred.”

“My creepy chemistry partner?”

Arthur frowned as he turned towards the door that led to the parking lot. Mordred was one of his least favorite people. He was smart, but creepy. And he looked like he was twelve. He never really spoke, but Arthur would always catch him just _staring_ in his direction sometimes. It always made his skin prickle uncomfortably. Arthur always tried to be nice to him. Just in case.

“Yep. They sit together in history, too. I’m surprised you haven’t met him before. He’s friends with Morgana.”

“Seriously? She’s, like, part Goth, though.” Well crap. Merlin had _seemed_ normal.

“Yup. And they always eat lunch together.”

“How do you know all this?” Leon didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would willingly hang out with someone like Merlin.

“Gwaine thinks your sister’s hot and he’s been stalking her a bit. I think he’s planning on asking her out and he never shuts up about what she’s doing or who his competition might be,” Leon explained. Arthur snorted. Morgana and he were similar in only one aspect. They each batted for their own team. Gwaine didn’t have a chance in hell at wooing her.

“Well, I’m only helping him out with his homework because I want to stay on the team. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

Arthur shut the light off as they left the writing center, locking the door behind him. He was already beginning to wonder if setting that date with Merlin (which wasn’t actually a date, he told himself) on Saturday had really been such a good idea after all.

***

Morgana was sitting cross-legged in a plush recliner when Arthur got home. She flicked her eyes up, nodded her head in greeting, then went back to her book. He plopped down on the adjacent sofa, raising his feet so he was lying along the length and heaving a great sigh as he stared at her.

Eventually, she looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to know what my favorite sister is doing,” Arthur said, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m your _only_ sister, and I certainly wouldn’t be your favorite if you had another.” She turned back to her book.

“Did you know Gwaine likes you?” Arthur asked.

Morgana sighed, marking her place in her book with a finger before looking back up at him. “Who’s Gwaine?”

“Gwaine Greene. He’s on the football team with me.”

“Well isn’t that just great for him? Tell him I’m not interested. Besides, I’m already seeing someone,” she said.

Arthur raised his head to look at her. This was new information to him. “You’re seeing someone? Who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Not that it’s any of your business. Besides, you probably don’t even know her.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you don’t really hang around with the same people I do,” she said and looked back down at her book. With a low mutter, she continued, “and you freak out whenever we’re seen in public together.”

He shifted uncomfortable and lay his head back down against the armrest. “If you weren’t so weird, it wouldn’t be a problem, now would it?”

Morgana huffed and stood up. “You’re a right arse, you know that? Dad’s right. You shouldn’t even be on the football team. They’re all arses and you’re just a bigger arse when you’re around them.”

“At least I’m normal and not some creepy girl who’s fanatic about the color black.”

“Oh, so normal is being on some stupid football team where you spend hours and hours running around on the same stretch of grass, trying to perfect ways to kick a ball into a net? Sounds fun. Not.”

“Whatever. Just because you have no life-”

“Doesn’t sound like you have much of one either,” she retorted.

“Morgana-”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, then turned and stormed away. Arthur listened to her footsteps as she went upstairs, presumably to sulk in her room.

He sat up and grabbed the remote off of the side table. He turned the television on to a music channel, then reached for his bag and pulled out his homework. His father would have a conniption if he didn’t see Arthur doing his homework the minute he walked in the door.

***

Meeting Merlin on Saturday, Arthur decided, had definitely been a bad idea. He went in fully intending to be distant and unhelpful. If Merlin was a friend of Mordred’s, well, Arthur probably shouldn’t get too comfortable. It would wreak havoc on his reputation, which was already on uneven ground due to him having just transferred, and he didn’t want to risk being the go-to kid for bullies right away. But then Merlin walked in, wearing loose jeans that hung low on his hips and a black turtleneck sweater. When Merlin bent over to place his bookbag on the floor and his shirt rode up just a bit to display the smooth expanse of his lower back, Arthur swallowed hard. It was suddenly much warmer in the restaurant.

Two days away from Merlin hadn’t changed his feelings at all. He shouldn’t have come, he told himself. He should have just stayed home, in the safety of his bedroom, where there weren’t any skinny guys with bedroom-blue eyes to tempt him into social oblivion.

When the waiter came to their table, Arthur ordered a burger and fries and Merlin ordered a salad, both of which were brought out promptly. Arthur wrinkled his nose when he saw Merlin’s plate of lettuce and tomatoes. No wonder Merlin was so thin.

When Arthur pointed out that Merlin should eat more or he’d waste away, Merlin smiled warmly. “Didn’t know you cared,” he said. He balanced his chin on a hand and stared at Arthur, one of his feet coming up to teasingly nudge at Arthur’s shin under the table.

Arthur tried to ignore the tilt of Merlin’s lips and the clinging black fabric of his sweater contrasting with his pale skin. He dug into his food as he began to read through the next chapters of Merlin’s book, which introduced the sorceress Nimueh. He enjoyed the afanc bit and thought Nimueh poisoning Camelot’s water supply was a clever idea. He did point out that Arthur would probably have been intelligent enough to figure it out on his own, but Merlin refused to budge. Prince Arthur would just have to deal with being saved by his manservant and his considerable (yeah right, Arthur thought) knowledge of how the elements worked.

Arthur though “The Poisoned Chalice” was a piece of drivel.

“It’s boring. He’s not even awake,” he protested after the initial read through. “You can’t have an unconscious, delirious narrator. It’s…it’s boring!”

“Well, he’s been poisoned. He’s not lucid,” Merlin said.

“So everything we read is utter gibberish because Merlin doesn’t know what’s going on? Try telling some of it from Arthur’s point of view. I mean, he’s going to get the flower. Surely he’s doing _something_ interesting,” Arthur said.

“But this is Merlin’s story. He doesn’t know what Arthur’s doing,” Merlin argued back, his hands across his chest as he glared at Arthur. Arthur felt his hackles rise, which was absurd because it wasn’t like the Arthur in the story was actually him. He shouldn’t feel offended because Arthur didn’t get as much screen time in this chapter. Still, the chapter was dreadfully boring.

“All I’m saying is right now, you have a lot of pages of Merlin seeing blackness and wondering where Arthur is. Then he gets better and we find out Arthur got the flower. That’s boring. Really boring. Why can’t bits be told from Arthur’s point of view?”

“Because it’s Merlin’s story. I told you.”

Merlin pouted. Arthur decided that was unfair. Arthur’s thoughts were already filled with more images of Merlin’s lips than were necessary, and he didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. Those thoughts were distracting him from what he was supposed to be doing, which was keeping his position on the football team secure. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the story.

“Why can’t it be about both of them?” he asked.

Merlin stopped pouting (thank God, Arthur thought) and frowned instead. Finally, he shrugged.

“It would probably be more interesting,” he eventually conceded.

Arthur grinned triumphantly. Merlin scowled.

“Prat,” he muttered.

“Idiot,” Arthur shot back.

Merlin tried and failed to hold in a laugh.

***

Neither of them wanted to go home after they’d finished negotiating the second chapter of the day, so Merlin suggested they go to the bookstore. Arthur told himself it wasn’t a good idea to actually go out with Merlin where someone might see them without the excuse of homework to fall back on. He didn’t really do much pleasure reading anyway, but the enthusiasm in Merlin’s eyes when he talked about buying a new book was contagious, and Arthur found himself agreeing. They decided to take Arthur’s car and headed out, leaving Merlin’s car parked in the lot.

They rode in silence, Arthur shifting uncomfortably behind the wheel while he pondered the way he felt about Merlin. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to Merlin, despite his instincts telling him that to act on that attraction was a bad idea. There was just…something there between them. A connection. There was an ease in which they could interact with each other that Arthur hadn’t experienced with anyone before. He didn’t know anything about Merlin, but yet, he understood him. And Merlin seemed to understand him, too.

Still, his entire life, he’d never been friends with someone like Merlin, someone so completely different. He couldn’t help but feel like people were staring at them, wondering why they were in each other’s presence. He imagined what his teammates would say if they caught him with Merlin in a bookstore together. The news would spread at school, and it wouldn’t be long before his reputation was fodder for gossip.

“What’s up with you and Mordred?” he blurted out, then bit his tongue. That had been rude. Even he knew that.

“What about me and Mordred? He’s a friend,” Merlin said lightly, seemingly oblivious to the reasons behind Arthur’s question. He was looking out of the window, his face turned away from Arthur.

“It’s just, he’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

Merlin frowned, tearing his gaze away from the shops whizzing by and giving Arthur a disapproving look. “No, he’s a friend.”

“He’s my chem lab partner.”

“Good for you. He’s smart. I’m sure he’s good to work with.”

“Er…yeah. He’s smart. But – Leon said you two were close.”

“Mordred’s been my friend since we were kids. He grew up two houses away from me. So yeah, we’re close. He’s my best friend,” Merlin said. “Do you talk about me with your football friends a lot?”

“He said you were smart, too,” said Arthur, trying to defend Leon. He knew Leon wasn’t always the nicest guy, but he wasn’t an awful person. He always refused to bully the less popular students at school, and rumor had it he had even defended a band geek when Kay tried to beat the poor kid up one afternoon (and Arthur was of the suspicion this was true because Leon and Kay hated each other). Hell, Leon was downright noble in comparison to some of the other players on the team.

“He did?” Merlin didn’t look convinced.

“Yeah, right before he said you barely pass your classes.” Foot in mouth, he told himself. _Foot in mouth._

Merlin shrugged. “I really like writing. I mean, it’s not even so much as I like it, it’s like, I _need_ it. Sometimes, I get ideas, and they don’t go away until I write them down. And I get ideas a lot, so yeah. I spend more time writing than studying. I enjoy it more anyway, and there’s a good chance I might be able to publish my book when it’s done, so I don’t know. School doesn’t always seem that important, I guess.”

Arthur was silent. He didn’t know what to say.

“Right, ok,” he said finally. “Sorry,” he offered.

Merlin shrugged again, not saying anything, but the tension left his face and he smiled at Arthur before turning back to look out the window. It bothered Arthur to be forgiven so quickly. He had known Merlin wasn’t exactly popular. But he had just been fairly rude, and he had insulted Merlin’s friends. To let it go so easily meant it was something Merlin was probably used to. Arthur didn’t like Merlin being used to it.

When they pulled into the bookstore parking lot, Arthur surprised both of them by leaning over and pressing his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin gasped, but didn’t pull away, and Arthur broke the kiss before it could go any deeper. When they got out of the car, Merlin was bright red, but he was smiling and his eyes sparkled. As they walked up to the store’s entrance, Merlin pressed close to him, lightly brushing the back of their knuckles together.

***

“You’re helping me with my story and you’ve never read _any_ of the Arthurian legend books? Not even White?” Merlin asked, incredulously. “How do you know anything about the legend?”

“Uh, it’s King Arthur. I think everyone’s familiar with the basic concept at least.”

Merlin stalked over to the fantasy section and went straight to the W’s, finding what he wanted and handing a thick paperback book to Arthur. “You’re reading this,” he said.

Arthur flipped to the last page of the book.

“It’s over six hundred pages. No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“But it’s good! I mean, it’s not very similar to what I’m writing, but it’s a great read. Plus, you at least get introduced to all of the main characters.”

“Arthur, Merlin, Morgan le Fey, Guinevere, Lancelot…I think I’m good,” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow.

Then Merlin pouted. Yes, Arthur thought, Merlin’s pouts were evil – or magical – because against his will he found himself walking to the front and purchasing the damned book. After, when he was waiting for Merlin to pay for the six books he had found (really, what else did he do with his time besides read and write), he clutched the book to his chest, absently stroking the spine. He didn’t know if he’d read it, but already he knew it was one of his favorites.

When Merlin was finished, he walked up to Arthur, offering him another blindingly beautiful grin. “Where to now?” he asked.

Arthur blinked and tried to ignore the flush he knew was creeping up his face. This had definitely turned into a date.

Not that he minded. No, he realized as they walked towards the exit, he really didn’t mind at all.

***

Both he and Merlin were shit for making decisions, so they spent awhile just driving around, singing to the radio and occasionally talking about future chapters in Merlin’s book. Arthur enjoyed musing over what would happen, and he surprised Merlin by more often than not, being correct. When they drove past an empty elementary school playground, Merlin shook his arm excitedly and told him to pull over.

Arthur had never really spent much time on a playground after he left elementary school. He’d always been a jock, and playgrounds just weren’t the cool place to be. But when Merlin perched himself in a swing and told Arthur to push him, it felt natural to do so. Moreover, it was _fun_. He grinned when Merlin laughed and told him “More!”

Arthur eventually stopped pushing Merlin and, after a bit, Merlin stopped propelling himself, letting his head rest against the chain as the swing slowly came to a stop. Both of them were flushed from the physical exertion and the slight chill of the early evening air. Once the swing was only slightly swaying back and forth, Arthur reached out and grasped Merlin’s waist, bringing him to a complete stop. He left his hands remain where they were, thumbs gently tracing circles on Merlin’s hipbones. Merlin leaned back, resting his weight against Arthur’s chest and turning his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck.

“Merlin,” Arthur said softly.

“Hm?”

Arthur didn’t say anything. He just leaned down and captured Merlin’s lips with his own, finally giving him a proper kiss. It was awkward and the angle was wrong, but the slippery slide of lips against lips and tongue against tongue took Arthur’s breath away.

Arthur moved his hands up to lightly caress Merlin’s long expanse of neck, and he felt Merlin smile into the kiss because suddenly, there were too many teeth in Merlin’s mouth and not enough room for Arthur’s tongue between them, but he grinned right back, causing Merlin to laugh and the kiss, regrettably, to end.

Arthur was the one who moved away first, pulling at Merlin’s wrist, tugging and making him stand up. Once Merlin was on his feet, Arthur kissed Merlin once again. Merlin moaned and Arthur nipped his lower lip, running his tongue over it, soothingly, when he was done. Merlin whimpered and pressed his body against Arthur’s.

He maneuvered Merlin back against the swing set, pressing him into the metal frame. His hands, which had been cupping Merlin’s face, moved down to the edge of his shirt. He slowly slipped them under and ran his hands over Merlin’s bare back. He was warm and soft against Arthur’s fingers, driving away the chill of the air, and Arthur let his hands rove. His palms smoothed over pale skin and his fingers traced the outline of Merlin’s spine, then his ribs. His hands ghosted over Merlin’s lower back and then up to stroke his shoulder blades, eventually coming to hook over Merlin’s shoulders. Arthur pulled him closer as he moved his lips across his jaw, nipping at the earlobe (and how did he know his ears would be so sensitive) before tracing his way down Merlin’s neck.

Merlin arched into him, moaning, his arousal obvious from where it pressed into his inner thigh. Arthur pressed one final kiss against Merlin’s collarbone before rising and leaning his forehead against Merlin’s, catching his breath.

“We’re at a school, you know,” Merlin finally said, a hand coming up to trace Arthur’s collarbones. “Can we go somewhere a bit more private?” Arthur wanted to laugh. Merlin’s voice was both too high and too breathy, but it was perfect. Arthur wasn’t completely confident in his ability to make it to the car but he nodded and grabbed Merlin’s hand, half running and half tripping in his haste to get Merlin somewhere more less public.

It took him three times to unlock his door, his fingers were trembling so much. He didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his life. He pushed Merlin into the backseat of the car and climbed in after him, throwing the keys on the dash and hastily closing the door behind them.

Merlin lay where he had landed, sprawled out on the backseat, his long limbs everywhere, and Arthur’s mouth went dry at the image he presented. Arthur could see the bulge in Merlin’s pants, and Merlin’s hips were making little undulating motions as if he couldn’t keep them still. Groaning, Arthur crawled over Merlin’s prone form, pushing one knee up into the triangle of Merlin’s groin to rub against his arousal as he again lowered his mouth to Merlin’s neck.

Arthur wasn’t totally inexperienced. He’d been with a couple girls and a few guys, but _none_ of them made the keening sound Merlin did at the double assault to his body. Merlin’s hips jerked up and Arthur felt Merlin’s cock rubbing against his own through their jeans. He had to quickly lift his hips up to avoid coming on the spot, and his teeth bit into Merlin’s shoulder with enough force that Arthur knew it was going to leave a mark for _days_. The thought of Merlin wearing a mark _he_ had put there made him moan even louder and, oh-fuck it. He drove his hips back down and pulled Merlin’s long legs so they wrapped around his waist and together, the two of them rutted against each other through their jeans because it just felt _good_. Arthur didn’t care if he came in his pants like some boy just out of puberty because it was Merlin under him and that made everything perfect.

Merlin’s spine arched, only his shoulders and head touching the seat below him, as if his body just gravitated upwards towards Arthur. His head fell back and he moaned as his hands clutched at Arthur.

Arthur pulled away, lifting his body up and pushing one hand down to the fastenings of Merlin’s trousers. It took him a few tries to get the buckle loosened, but he figured it out, and had just managed to get Merlin’s jeans open when felt a hand slide along his stomach and slip into the his own trousers.

“Fuck!” His hips jerked and he paused, one hand halfway down Merlin’s pants, trying to catch his breath.

Merlin snickered, his hand moving farther in and taking a firm hold of Arthur’s cock. Arthur groaned. He bit his lip, resting his forehead against Merlin’s chin, and he let himself get sucked into the feeling of Merlin’s hand fisting him.

“I’m not going do all the work,” Merlin said. Arthur managed to raise his head. Merlin was smirking at him, and he thrust his hips up a couple of times to get his point across.

Arthur leaned forward and kissed Merlin fiercely, at the same time pushing his hand into Merlin’s pants, wrapping his fingers around the thick length. Merlin’s moan reverberated in his mouth, and Arthur answered it with one of his own.

When Arthur felt himself teetering too close to the edge, he growled and leaned back, pulling himself out of Merlin’s hands. He felt heat rush through him as he saw his own precome slicking Merlin’s hands, and he had to lean against the seat to steady himself for a moment. When he had his breath back enough, he grasped the top of Merlin’s trousers and pulled them down, urging Merlin to bend his knees and lift his hips so he could pull them all the way off. When his trousers were just a heap on the floor, he pushed his own down to his knees, then took a moment to enjoy the sight before him. He ran his palms up Merlin’s legs and felt the erratic pulse beat through the skin on Merlin’s inner thighs.

Merlin keened, high and needy, so Arthur paused, running the pads of his thumbs lightly over the skin where his inner thigh met his groin, listening to the sounds Merlin was making. Instinct had told him Merlin was sensitive here, and his instincts had been right. And he had known, somehow, that the sight of Merlin, half dressed, his trousers off and his shirt pushed up, legs spread wantonly, was the sight he had been waiting his entire life to see.

He removed his hands and replaced them with his own body, aligning his cock with Merlin’s and using his own hips to keep Merlin’s legs spread wide. Merlin threw his head back, hitting it on the door behind him, but Arthur didn’t think he noticed. He slid his hands under Merlin’s back, caressing the skin and eventually gripping his shoulders hard. Merlin’s ankles locked behind his back and the two of them moved together easily, Arthur moving down when Merlin pressed up.

God, it was like they had been made for this.

Merlin was the first to tip over, arching his back and opening his mouth in a silent moan, the light catching his eye and making them look gold for a moment. Arthur took in the image of Merlin, head thrown back, mouth open, lips swollen, cheeks and chest red, and then followed him over the edge, groaning as his release joined Merlin’s across his chest.

They lay there, panting for a moment, softening cocks still pressed together. Merlin brought his hands up, one tangling in the hair on the back of Arthur’s head, one caressing his neck and jaw, as if trying to anchor himself back in reality.

As they came down, Arthur blinked, then swallowed nervously. He had never moved so fast with anyone before, had never gone beyond an awkward kiss or two on the first day, and now he’d damn near slept with Merlin on their first date, which wasn’t really even a date. He pushed Merlin’s legs to the side and raised himself, looking around the car, wondering what exactly had just happened.

“Shit,” he muttered. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to regain composure. “Shit,” he said again.

Merlin looked up at him, frowning. “You know, I could have sworn you were enjoying it a minute ago.”

“No. I mean, yes, but…oh crap. I didn’t mean to. Listen, let’s just… We should go. I should go. Actually, this is my car, so you should go. But, I mean, I’ll take you to your car. Shit. ” He was babbling. He knew he was babbling but he couldn’t seem to stop, so he bit his lip and instead concentrated on pulling up his trousers. Once he was done, he grabbed Merlin’s jeans and threw them at him. “Get dressed,” he said.

He didn’t watch Merlin as he fumbled with his jeans. He didn’t want to know if his harsh words hurt Merlin. He just wanted to get away because this wasn’t supposed to have happened. He shouldn’t like Merlin, and he definitely shouldn’t be fucking around in the backseat of a car with him. So he ignored him and pushed himself through the space between the two front seats, grabbing the keys and shoving them into the ignition.

“Er, do you have anything…?” Merlin gestured toward his chest, which was covered with streaks of come. Arthur grit his teeth, but pulled out some napkins from the glove box and handed them back. “Thanks,” Merlin said softly.

Damn it, he should never have started anything when they were in public. He never should have started anything, period. He wondered if anyone had seen them and if his father would hear about it. They were parked in a school parking lot. Were there laws against that? Could he get arrested for public indecency?

Arthur could feel himself panicking, so he took a few deep breaths before turning to the back seat where Merlin still was and saying, “I should take you back to the restaurant so you can pick up your car.” There. That had sounded calm and reasonable. He hadn’t been rude. Merlin couldn’t hold it against him,

Merlin’s bit his lip and nodded, not saying anything, holding the soiled napkin loosely in his hand. He was dressed again, though his lips were still bright red from their activities, and Arthur was sure his were too. Anyone who saw them would immediately know what they had been doing.

Arthur didn’t ask if Merlin wanted to move to the front seat. He started the car, reversed out of his spot, then drove back to the diner. Neither Merlin nor Arthur spoke on the trip and when Arthur pulled up next to Merlin’s car, he didn’t kiss him goodbye. He couldn’t bring himself to even look at him. He waved at him once he was out of the car, and drove away, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

When he got home, he ignored his father and sister and ran up the stairs to his room, throwing himself onto the bed and curling into a ball, wondering if he could just hide there forever.

***

As far as Arthur could tell, no one at school knew about his tryst with Merlin. He went through his day with no incident, and it wasn’t until later, after football practice, that Merlin’s name was even mentioned.

“…Emrys.”

Arthur jerked up, having not paid attention to the conversation until this point.

“You’re fucked up, Kay,” Leon said, looking faintly disgusted. He had turned away to change out of his uniform but had stopped midway. He was now glaring at Kay now, one arm still tangled in his football jersey.

Arthur wondered what he had missed.

“What? He’s just a fag. Maybe it’ll toughen him up,” Kay said, grinning as he stuffed his gym bag with his dirty clothes. Behind him, Agravaine laughed.

Gwaine and Lance shook their heads, and Elyan glared at Kay from where he was sitting, lacing up his trainers. “You just walked up to him and beat him?” Elyan asked. He looked uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

Arthur’s heart dropped as he listened, having completely forgotten that he, like Leon, was only half-dressed.

“I didn’t beat him,” Kay said, snorting in disdain. “Who knows, a couple sucker punches might do him good. I doubt I did anything more than bruise the kid.” Arthur looked at Kay who, despite only being seventeen, would have easily dwarfed Merlin in size.

Pellinore joined in the laughter, and the rest of the team just shook their heads. The matter was dropped and the tension in the room quickly dissipated as the team made plans for the night. When they asked Arthur if he wanted to hang out with them, he shook his head, mumbling something about homework. They shrugged, dismissing the matter, and left, loud and raucous, sounding like a stampede of elephants.

As Arthur packed his things, he told himself it didn’t matter what happened to Merlin. They weren’t an item; he was just helping him with homework. Besides, Merlin was way too skinny, had big ears, snorted a lot when he laughed, and was much too enamored with fantasy fiction than was probably normal. Arthur reasoned he was used to bullying and could take care of himself.

He finished packing and slung his gym bag over his shoulder. He tried to convince himself that he felt better, having reasonably assured himself Merlin was fine. He most certainly did _not_ feel guilty.

***

Merlin came to see him in the writing center on Monday, and Arthur made a point to keep distance between them and so that all touching was kept to an absolute minimum. When Merlin leaned over to jot a note on the manuscript, Arthur made sure to press against the back of the chair, moving his upper body away from Merlin’s. He ached to reach forward and press his lips against Merlin’s, to comb his fingers through that surprisingly soft hair, to press his own body against that slim one and rut against him and push into him until all Merlin knew was Arthur and the feel of Arthur within him and around him. The intensity of what he was feeling terrified him. He’d liked people before. He’d wanted to sleep with people before, push them against a wall and get them both off, but he’d never wanted to _possess_ someone like he did Merlin.

So he pushed Merlin away, not knowing if he could control himself and not willing to find out, especially in such a public place. He didn’t return Merlin’s smiles and when Merlin reached out to rest a hand on his arm, he jerked away as if burnt.

The distance Arthur had put between them made it easy to focus solely on Merlin’s story, and in the one hour appointment, they made it through several chapters. They fought about Prince Arthur’s initial reaction to Lancelot, the healer Edwin’s past, the Sidhe’s motivation, and whether or not Arthur would actually rescue a wounded Druid boy. When a scraggly-haired guy Merlin called Will showed up at the door of the writing center, Merlin gave Arthur the rest of the manuscript.

“I made an appointment for Wednesday and I thought you might want to look through this before then.” Merlin shifted uncomfortably before sighing. “Listen, I’m sorry about Saturday, and I promise it won’t happen again, but your critique is the best I’ve ever received for this, so I’d like to keep meeting with you. If you don’t mind, that is.” He bit his lip and worried at the hem of his shirt, not looking Arthur in the eye.

“Yeah, I’d like to keep working-”

“Great,” Merlin said, cutting Arthur off. “Well, I’m off then. See you Wednesday.”

Merlin left, not giving Arthur the chance to say anything. Arthur watched Merlin leave and tried not to flinch from the glare Will shot him. He couldn’t help but feel he had royally screwed everything up.

***

Merlin became distant over the next few weeks, rarely speaking to Arthur outside of the writing center appointments. Arthur missed him and craved feeling his body underneath him, but Merlin appeared to have completely lost interest. He always maintained a safe distance between the two of them and carefully avoided touching Arthur. Hell, most of the time he wouldn’t even look Arthur in the eyes, preferring to keep his gaze solely on the manuscript. And when Arthur saw him in the halls, he was always in the company of Mordred or Will, and he was always laughing. Arthur didn’t even think Merlin saw him as they passed each other.

It was Morgana who first noticed Arthur’s behavior.

“You’re moping,” she said one day while they were watching a poorly acted made-for-TV movie. Both of them were lounging around in sweats and old t-shirts, propping themselves up on pillows on the sofa. Junk food and empty soda cans littered the floor at their feet.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Arthur said, not tearing his gaze from the screen.

“You’re moping,” she said again.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No, I’m— Oh, shut up!” Arthur turned the volume on the TV up, hoping it would drown her out. She snatched the remote back from him and turned the TV off.

“Is this because of Merlin?”

Arthur stared at her. Just _stared._ “How the fuck did you find out about Merlin?”

“Mordred.”

“Oh great, I forgot you hang out with Mordred too. Is everyone friends with that creep?”

Morgana frowned at him. “What’s wrong with Mordred?”

“He’s creepy. What else needs to be wrong?” He didn’t care if he was being childish. He was sick of hurting every time he saw Merlin not missing him. He hated that it was his fault and he didn’t need his sister to chastise him about his actions.

Morgana stared at him for a long moment. “You are a complete arse and Merlin is better off without you if this how you’re going to act,” she finally said.

“Fuck off.”

“No. He _likes_ you, for reasons I can’t possibly begin to comprehend. He actually, legitimately, likes you, and you sit around, moping and saying bad things about his friends.”

“What do you know about it?”

Morgana snorted and stood up. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at his face. _Hard._

Arthur sputtered. “What was that for?”

“Mordred’s a good person. Just because he’s different from you doesn’t make him some sort of lesser creature. Did you know, when he walked in on some of your football buddies talking about how you’re such a suck-up and a brownnoser, Mordred said you were decent? He said you were nice to him in chemistry and Merlin liked you, so they should shut their traps. But you’ve got your head stuck so far up your own arse, you wouldn’t even know who your friends were if they had neon signs with arrows pointing down at them.”

Morgana grabbed the pillow from his slack fingers and hit him upside the head with it one more time before stalking out the room. Arthur heard the front door slam shut and realized she had left the house. He slouched into the cushion of the sofa, cheeks burning with shame.

***

“Look at him! He’s such a tiny one. Do you think he’s even old enough to be here?”

Arthur recognized Kay’s voice. It was late in the evening. Football practice was over and he had been heading out to his car. He hadn’t expected to turn the corner and come across Kay and Pellinore pressing Mordred against the wall and shoving their faces into his. Mordred was a small guy, but with Kay and Pellinore hovering over him like that, he looked…infantile. He watched the scene silently, trying to figure out what he should do.

“He’s kind of delicate, don’t you think?” asked Pellinore.

Kay snorted. “Maybe he’s not even a guy. Maybe he’s a girl.”

“Should we check?”

Mordred struggled, twisting and trying to get out of their grasp, but Kay was big, and he was strong. Mordred didn’t stand a chance. Kay had twisted his hand in the front of Mordred’s t-shirt, preventing him going anywhere. When Mordred realized he couldn’t get out of Kay’s grasp, he went still, pressing his lips together tightly and glaring instead.

Arthur hesitated for a moment. Kay was a bully, but it wasn’t something he should get involved in. Mordred could take care of himself. But when Kay reached down and cupped Mordred through his trousers, Arthur quickly stepped forward. That was too far.

“Kay, Pellinore,” he said, deadpan. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Arthur!” Kay seemed genuinely happy to see him. “Look what we found.”

Mordred looked at him warily. He obviously couldn’t tell if Arthur was going to join the other two or if he had come to help him out.

“Leave him alone,” Arthur said, and Mordred sagged a bit in relief, smiling at him slightly. His smile was like Merlin’s, Arthur realized. A bit awkward, but sincere.

“What’s it to you?” Pellinore asked, stepping up to Arthur. Pellinore was bigger than Arthur, but Arthur also knew from watching Pellinore run football drills that he stood a better a chance in a fight. He had better coordination, and he was quicker. He held his ground, staring Pellinore in the eye.

Kay was the first to give. He snorted and gave Mordred one last push. “Not worth it anyway,” Arthur heard him mutter. “Come on Pellinore. Let’s leave the _boys_ to their games.”

Pellinore obviously didn’t want to back down, but he followed Kay nonetheless, shooting Arthur one last glare before they rounded the corner and were out of sight.

Arthur waited a moment to make sure they were gone, then turned to Mordred. “All right?”

Mordred nodded, offering another small smile. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was soft, but then again, Arthur didn’t think he’d ever heard Mordred speak loudly.

He nodded, uncomfortable. He hadn’t really done anything. He had just…done what anyone else would have. Wouldn’t they?

Mordred shifted from foot to foot, watching Arthur nervously. Arthur wondered if Mordred thought he was going to be a bully now, if he had sent Kay and Pellinore away just to take their places. Arthur didn’t like it, knowing that someone might be comparing him to those two. He especially didn’t like Merlin’s friends think of him like that.

“Well, they’re gone, so I’m going to head out,” he said finally, moving past Mordred and heading in the direction of his car. When he was just about to turn the corner, he heard Mordred call out, “Thanks again.” Arthur lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t bother replying. He was around the corner anyway.

 

***

The next time Arthur saw Merlin in the hall, Merlin looked him in the eye and smiled, mouthing _Thank you_ as they passed each other.

Merlin’s gratitude shouldn’t have meant so much to him, but Arthur couldn’t help the warm feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The rest of his day seemed to be just a little bit brighter after that.

***

Arthur couldn’t focus on Merlin’s story. They had been in the writing center for an hour. With the exception of themselves, it was completely deserted. School was out for the weekend, and the halls were silent. Arthur tapped his pen anxiously on the table. He had come prepared to apologize to Merlin. The situation with Mordred and Kay had made him think, had made him reconsider a lot of things, and he realized maybe Merlin wasn’t so bad. Maybe it would be all right to be seen in public with Merlin. At least then, if someone tried to bully him, he’d be there to step in.

Unfortunately, forcing the words out was a lot harder than he had thought it would be.

The silence stretched between them. Merlin watched him, anxiously, and Arthur realized he’d been staring at a spot on the table for quite some time, completely ignoring anything Merlin may have been saying. He worried his lip, then took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Merlin, I wanted to say…well, what I mean is…” Arthur looked down at the manuscript in front of him.

“You were a complete prat to me?” Merlin supplied.

“No. Well, yes, but what I really wanted to say was that…look, I’m sorry, okay. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

Merlin considered him for a moment. “No, you shouldn’t have,” he said finally.

“Is Mordred all right?”

“Yeah. Thanks. He told me what you did. You didn’t have to, you know. Kay’s the biggest arse at school, but-”

“Yes, I did need to. No one deserves to go through that.” He stared at the manuscript for another moment before pushing it aside with a sigh and turning in his chair to face Merlin. “Look, I treated you badly, but I don’t want to turn in to someone like Kay.” He still felt slightly ill when he thought of what Kay had been doing to Mordred, what the situation could have morphed into if he hadn’t stepped in.

“You won’t,” Merlin said fiercely. “There’s no way you’d go around beating people up just for kicks.”

“No, but...” Arthur ran a hand over his face, trying to think of the right words. It was weird, having someone that really seemed to _believe_ in him. “Listen,” he said finally, “you’re weird.”

Merlin blinked. “Okay,” he said slowly.

“You’re weird, and you have really big ears that stick out too far. You eat vegetables because you like them and you read a lot. Your friends are all weird, too. Face it. You’re a social outcast. But…I really like you. And I was an arse, but I’m sorry, and it’s stupid to think you’d still want to even be friends with me, but…” he trailed off again.

Merlin reached out and laid his hand over Arthur’s, their eyes meeting. Arthur didn’t see any accusations in them, like he had expected. Merlin smiled and squeezed his hand. “Yes?”

“Well, maybe you’d like to try going out with me again? On a real date?” Arthur could feel his face heating up. Dear God, he was blushing. Like a girl.

Merlin looked down at their hands. When he raised his head again, he was grinning from ear to ear. That was all the answer Arthur needed. He leaned over, Merlin meeting him halfway, and even though they were in the writing center, and their kiss remained sweet and chaste, it felt just as good as the one on the playground.

The kiss was short, and they quickly separated, both aware that, while they were alone, the door didn’t lock and anyone could walk in. But they kept their hands clasped together for a long moment.

Arthur was the one to break the silence. “We should get some work done,” he said, squeezing Merlin’s hand before regretfully letting go.

Merlin nodded and leaned forward, reaching out to pull the manuscript forward so they could both see it. As they bent over the paper, their shoulders brushed together and their hands met under the table. It took all of Arthur’s determination to actually focus on the job he was supposed to be doing.

He began to read. During the weeks they hadn’t really been speaking to each other, Merlin and Arthur had worked steadily through most of the book. They were now making their way through the scene directly after Prince Arthur had learned of Morgana’s betrayal and her usurpation of the throne. After escaping the castle, Arthur and Merlin had run to the caves to hide with the other Knights of the Round Table.

Arthur leaned back in his chair and studied the words on the page. It felt like something was missing. A huge something. He bit his lip, eyes unfocusing as he thought about what he had read.

It was when Merlin moved forward slightly to mark a minor grammar mistake that Arthur realized what was wrong. He quickly reached out and grasped Merlin’s hand tightly, causing him to scratch an unsightly ink mark across a paragraph.

“What the-?” Merlin said, looking at Arthur, confused. “You okay?”

“If Arthur doesn’t find out magic can be good now, he’ll never trust it,” Arthur said. He hadn’t thought about it beforehand. The words just came, unbidden, yet he knew they were right.

“You think this is the time for the magic reveal?”

“Yes,” he said. It was simple, really, though he couldn’t say why. He just…knew.

Arthur could feel something happening. His gut felt heavy, like the first time he had kissed someone, only...more. There wasn’t a word for whatever was about to happen. This was big. This was very big. He knew that if Merlin wrote in this bit, everything would solve itself. He bit his lip, watching Merlin, trying to silently urge him to do what needed to be done.

Merlin eyed him warily, but hastily scribbled in a magic reveal scene, Arthur watching over his shoulder. After Prince Arthur and Merlin witnessed Morgana become Queen, they had run out of the city. Arthur had stopped in a field and screamed himself hoarse, attacking a tree with his sword and beating out his frustration. Merlin had tried to comfort him, but when Arthur had raved about the evils of magic, all Merlin could see was history repeating himself. So he confessed. Told Arthur that magic could be good too and told him all about the times he had save the prince’s life.

And then Arthur remembered being Arthur and hating Merlin, then, hating everything about the warlock that had stood across from him and professed his love and fealty. He hated it because he had suspected and trusted, yet he still felt betrayed even though he knew he wasn’t and it was all so confusing now with Morgana and Morgause and he hadn’t known what to do.

Merlin had looked so vulnerable. Tears had streaked his servant’s face and in the end, it was the tears that did him in. He’d only seen Merlin cry once, and those had been tears hastily scrubbed away. He’d never seen them falling over Merlin’s cheeks, cutting paths through the dirt, and Arthur knew that if he rejected Merlin now, Merlin would die. Maybe of grief, maybe by his own hand, but he would become Merlin’s murderer and he couldn’t take that. Instead, he had drawn Merlin into an embrace and finally, _finally_ kissed those lips that he’d wanted for so long.

Arthur blinked, the memory, and so many other memories of his past lives fading, and then he was back in the writing center. Merlin was across from him, still holding his hand, and looked like he was just coming out of a daze. Arthur grinned at him. He had forgotten how much he missed Merlin’s constant companionship as the two of them moved from life to life. He always forgot, and the relief he felt was stronger in each lifetime. He squeezed Merlin’s hand, and he knew it was _his_ Merlin looking back at him, and he was Merlin’s Arthur. When Merlin answered his smile with a lopsided grin of his own – a grin that was both strangely familiar and yet completely foreign because he had never seen this grin, not in this lifetime at least – Arthur knew that everything would be all right, because he had Merlin by his side.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, leaning forward and dropping his head onto Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur smiled. “Idiot,” he said, and Merlin laughed. “We’re back.”

“We are.”

Merlin broke away from Arthur, still grinning, and lifted a hand, his magic easily calling forth a blue globe of light. “God, that feels good,” he said. “I always forget how much I miss my magic.”

Arthur’s fingers skittered over the light, dancing along the edges. It felt cheesy in all the right ways, that light. It was Arthur’s first experience with good magic. It had always appeared when they’d made love, no matter the lifetime. It was familiar and beautiful, safe and comforting. It was _Merlin_.

Merlin started laughing, and Arthur looked at him, confused.

“One of these days,” Merlin said, once his chuckles had subsided, “we’re going to actually figure it out. I mean, we’re always surrounded by Morgana and Uther, Mordred, Lancelot, Gwaine, the rest of the Knights… You would think the names would at least flip a switch.”

Arthur shrugged. He knew now, and in this life, they were still young. They had plenty of time to spend together, so he couldn’t be bothered to care about why he didn’t recognize the names. “Yes, well, you are – were – an idiotic manservant. Leave it to me to figure out what needed to be done.” It was probably Merlin’s fault anyway.

Merlin grinned back and pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur’s lips. “And you, _Sire_ , are still a prat,” he murmured.

And this time, when Arthur leaned forward and captured Merlin’s lips in a true and proper kiss, he could feel his warlock’s magic thrumming through his body, and he knew that they had finally found each other again.


End file.
